


Book One- You in The Philosopher's Stone

by JackOlantern



Series: Back to Teach at Hogwarts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Injury, Chronological Hogwarts Life, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Humor, Healing, Hogwarts Teacher, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Long Flashbacks, Reader's Perspective, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-09-07 11:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8798995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOlantern/pseuds/JackOlantern
Summary: As it so happens, for a teaching post I find myself in need of not only a skilled healer, but also of a witch or wizard willing to teach classes at Hogwarts individually as well as occasionally alongside other colleagues in the relevant subjects, including Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology and Defence against the Dark Arts. Hereby I take my chance to have an offer to make to you, as well as to voice a plea coming from an old, old wizard: Would you perhaps be interested in taking the position? With so much left to say, yet impatiently awaiting your reply, I close hereby.Graciously yours,Albus Dumbledore





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> You return to Hogwarts this time around as a teacher. Harry Potter's first school year! Does he look more like Lily or James, you wonder. Enjoy revisiting the magical world through your eyes in this story and let me know if you have any wishes as to who you meet when and if you, the heroine have any special memories you want to revisit!

You were sitting at your kitchen table reading the day’s papers. The last rays of sunlight were illuminating the otherwise dark room. You had left the window open, letting the cool air that dusk brings with it waft inside, accompanied by smell of the last few days of Summer. You turned the page, causing a clump of pompous ministry wizards on the front page tumble to the side.

“More bad news, huh, Abraxas?”

The large, sooty owl hooted lazily in reply. Setting the _Daily Prophet_ aside to head to bed, a loud tapping noise at the window interrupted your path. Abraxas merely clicked his beak to convey his annoyance at the late intruder. As you let the owl which was by now frantically rapping on the glass inside, it fluttered atop the table and obediently stuck out its leg in your direction. You unwrapped the paper scroll curiously. For a split second, you felt like a 13 year old again. For the rolled parchment bore a crest you had grown to both know and love over the past years. It bore the Hogwarts Crest.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND

WIZARDRY

 

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class. Grand Sorc.,_

_Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International_

_Confed. of Wizards)_

 

_My Dear Penelope,_

_I would have liked to say that I am penning these words down to you solely in a congratulatory attempt to raise my praise on your truly enlightening contribution to the new best-seller “Healing 1,2,3- Medical Magic for Mere Beginners” (which was, I must say, an interesting read indeed). Alas, the reasons for my letter have arisen due to a secondary occurrence as well._

_As magic advances and our dear Madame Pomfrey has her hands full of students to heal, patch up and shoo out of the hospital ward, it just so happens that there is a position available as- how should I say, Assistant Madame of sorts. On her behalf and the suggestion of our dear Professor McGonagall (who I am certain you remember), I have furthermore humbly taken the liberty (as headmaster of this magnificent school) to create the post of Healing and Remedial Magic, or for short H.A.R.M. (Please forgive the unconventional wordplay, it was nothing but a mere coincidence, I can assure you)._

_As it so happens, for a post, and such an important one, I find myself in need of not only a skilled healer, but also of a witch or wizard willing to teach classes at Hogwarts individually as well as occasionally alongside other colleagues in the relevant subjects, including Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology_ _and Defence against the Dark Arts. And, as you might have guessed, helping our minimally overwhelmed Madame Pomfrey is an additional task._

_Hereby I take my chance to have an offer to make to you, as well as to voice a plea coming from an old, old wizard: Would you perhaps be interested in taking the position? It is certainly known to me that it is a rather challenging position to fulfill, but I wrote to you remembering how you yourself enjoyed Hogwarts and how found a home in the castle’s magnificent walls._

_Won’t you, Penelope? I am aware that memories might come to return, however, I like to believe we live in the present and I am certain you shall make good memories here anew, should you graciously accept the offer._

_Therefore, with so much left to say, yet impatiently awaiting your reply, I close hereby._

_Graciously yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

After a few minutes of silence, you realized your mouth was open and you shut it quickly. You then continued to sit down in the chair you had just gotten up from, deep in thought. After another few minutes, the messenger owl started to fidget, interrupting your trance.

“What do you think, Braxy? Hogwarts?” you asked, finally.

Before you had received the confirming hoot, you had already sat down and addressed a reply.

 

_Dear ~~Profess~~ Albus…_


	2. The Hogwarts Express and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters! Remember when you first boarded it? Oh, those Slytherins...

Tracing your hand over the rough, red bricks of the station building, a wave of nostalgia passed over you. How long had it been? How quickly had time passed by since you had first set foot on the connection platform, heavy trolley in front of you, ready for your first year of what would become home away from home?

You smiled slightly as you continued down platform 10, glancing at the large clock over the arrival boards. 20 minutes until 11:00a.m., departure time. That meant you still had time for a coffee.

As you waited in line, you couldn’t help but study the faces passing by outside the grimy shop window, searching for any sign of familiarity. There! A young girl with an owl! You shifted to get a better look at her parents… Shame. They didn’t seem familiar whatsoever.

“Coffee for Phanlopay?” 

You sighed.

“Its actually Penelope.”

“Whatever you say, darling.” The suggestive undertone in the rugged looking barista’s voice made your attention fall upon him, despite yourself.

“Well then, have a magical day, _Penelope_ ” he drawled, making sure to brush his fingers against your neatly polished ones as he handed you the beverage. 

“I certainly will…”, you replied, smiling to yourself, the handsome muggle not knowing how appropriate his well-wishing actually was. 

As you glanced at the large station clock again you realized it was 10 minutes to boarding, when suddenly someone roughly bumped into your shoulder, knocking you aside.

“ _Terribly_ sorry Miss, our brother doesn’t usually run this wild, but you see, all of that pompousness of his must have gotten to his head…” a cheerful voice said behind you as you bent to straighten your cloak.

Behind you stood two boys with nearly identical features, both wearing nearly identical grins and both barely looking to hide their laughter behind two very somber masks of remorse. Their impish faces made you laugh.

“No harm done, gentlemen. Although, I might try tripping your victim next time, perhaps you might get a more favorable result”.” you replied, winking. They seemed like one could get along with them marvelously.

This caused at first two almost identical looks of disbelief, then a series of complicated high fives to play out before you. 

“You hear that, Perce?”, the other boy now yelled at the young man whom they had pushed into you, whose neck now resembled the vibrant red color of your robes. “Even the lady thinks you’re a-“

What exactly you were thinking you should never find out, as both boys were smacked over their brilliantly red hair by a rolled up edition of the _Daily Prophet._  

“Fred! _George_! Making trouble again… If you paid only half as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to agonizing your brother… honestly, can’t you two behave for once!” 

The wielder of today’s papers was a plump little woman with flaming red hair in the exact shade the boys in front of you sported. Spotting you, she gave you an apologetic little smile.

“I’m so sorry Miss, they are quite a lively bunch they are, its- _NO_! Leave him _alone_ you two! Alone I said! Pardon me…” And off she hurried after her three, no, four, no, _five_ children, brandishing her paper menacingly, the twins giving you a final thumbs up and ducking away under their mother’s swipes.

What must it feel like to have a big family of your own...? Lucky you had been raised by your gran, who was a wonderful lady all in all, but you had found your real family at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, all that laughter, the similar looks, the inside jokes… you had only ever gotten a glimpse of what a tight-knit bond of the family kind felt like.

8 minutes to departure.

You made your way to the platform, checking for muggles on the way before taking a running start and passing through the barrier separating the muggles from the magic world.

A final rush of air rushed passed and then you were greeted by the sight of the marvelous Hogwarts Express. The large gleaming scarlet steam engine was waiting as it always had. The sign overhead read “Hogwarts Express, eleven O’ clock. Smoke drifted over the heads of the people on the crowded platform, cats drifted through the masses, frogs croaked and owls in wrought iron cages hooted sleepily. As your eyes travelled over the first few carriages packed with students fighting over seats or hanging out the windows to bid their worried mothers goodbye, a wave of familiarity hit you.

Nothing had changed, save for the faces and the concoction of voices twining through the crowd.

Giggling first years with excited anticipation clear on their faces were debating houses. “But what if I get sorted in Hufflepuff?! I hear its impossible for first years to find the common room!”

“Nah,” retorted another, “but I do know about a second year who had to pay a Slytherin for the password. Naturally it was the wrong one, so the common room refused to accept him and he had to sleep in an empty classroom for a week!”

A round of gasps tore from the girls’ lips.

You grinned at their antics. You yourself had been given the choice between Gryffindor and Slytherin house, in the end joining the lions. Your late father had been a Gryffindor himself. Still, your friendly outgoing nature had never hindered you from making friends with other houses, many even from enemy Slytherin.

The reputation that preceded the Snakes might have proven to be true concerning a few very shady individuals in your year, however you had gotten along splendidly with most.

Even with sleezy Malfoy.

 

 

- _The fire crackles merrily in the library hearth. Through the large glass-paned window you see two pairs of footsteps leading over the grounds, one the size of two small pans, the other a canine trail, imprinted neatly in the white blanket of snow._

_You hear another set of steps approach behind you, determined, though increasingly hesitant as they near the window in which you are sitting._

_“Fisher.”_

_You grin, though not turning, you respond. “Malfoy.”_

_Silence follows. Suddenly the icy Slytherin prefect moves to stand next to you, also facing the window._

_“I despise winter.”_

_You remain silent, giving him time to follow up on the thought. He must be going somewhere with this._

_“Snow paints the mansion back home in lifeless black and white. All of man prepares to celebrate by spending excessive coin on decoration, which does not make the house any less empty. “Thank you Aunt Catrisse, yes, I shall add this useless, ugly figurine to the other twenty like it, gathering dust on the shelf.” “Certainly Mother, I am ahead in all my classes. Yes, I remain to be prefect. Of course, I will fetch you another drink and leave you to it,”” Malfoy sneers, finishing his mocking tirade with a bitter tone._

_“Pretending to care about people you call family, who discuss nothing but money, showing off their hideous, rotten children to their other gluttonous, wasteful relatives. Of course, you wouldn’t know anything about it now, would you, Fisher? You don’t even have a family.”_

_Even though you are used to comments of that sort, it hurts nonetheless._

_“Well,” you respond carefully, “I do have Gran. And when it snows we take the dogs and we go out to gather mistletoe and holly to decorate the cottage. Sometimes the dogs get sick after eating too much gingerbread, but when the fireplace is lit and the room smells of cinnamon its as if a little piece of heaven had come to earth in form of hot butterbear and spread with the warmth of candlelight. That’s what winter means to me.”_

_You smile, basking in the glow of the fond memory until you become startlingly aware of stormy gray eyes resting on you._

_“That is… that’s-“_

_Malfoy stuttering? You must have quite struck a nerve. Taking pity and suddenly hit by an absolutely insane, crazy idea inspired by the light pressure in your chest at his previous words, you cut him off._

_“Are you free for the holidays?”_

_Once again, silence ensues._

_Then he speaks. “I- you- that’s not- I mean, you couldn’t possibly be suggesting-“_

_“Gran always enjoys it when I bring over people from school,” you interrupt._

_“People?”_

_“Friends.”_

_At that, Malfoy lets out a laugh, tossing his blonde head back. You startle at its mirth, you had (if he ever laughed) imagined it to be a high, cold sound._

_Embarrassed, you turn away, face burning red. Why did you offer him that? Now he’ll have even more reason to antagonize you. But his following, gentle words only add to your surprise._

_“I thank you, Penelope._ _”-_


	3. Bad Turns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then there were times in which you seemed to drift apart...

_Rita shouted something intelligible at you over the thumping music. The obnoxious blonde was obviously enjoying the Gryffindor house party you had organized nearly as much as she seemed to like the poxy-liquor one of the year-seveners had brought with him._

_“What was that, darling?” you shouted back._

_“What?”_

_“What?” you replied._

_“I can’t hear you!” She made a strange gesture with her hands, signaling her deafness._

_Laughing, you pulled her into a corner, where one of your other friends, Liu was waving at you from frantically._

_She pulled Rita to her, shouting something into her ear._

_“Pardon?”_

_Liu repeated what she had said, and apparently it was something to worry about, since both girls first looked at each other and then turned two carefully guarded expressions your way._

_“What is it?” You felt worry bloom in the pit of your stomach, thumping hollowly to the Weird Sister’s beat._

_“Well-,” Liu started, but was interrupted by Rita._

_“Malfoy’s here.” She blurted._

_Your stomach dropped._

_“So?” you answered coolly. “It’s a party for all houses, why shouldn’t he be here?”_

_“Not like he ever shows up to Gryffindor parties…” Liu mumbled, once again cut off by Rita._

_“Yes but he’s here with the two B’s. Bi*ch one and B-“_

_“All right all right, we get the picture, thanks Rita!”_

_You shook your head. Narcissa and Bellatrix, the two Slytherin cousins to terrorize the lower year girls. More often than once had a Quidditch match turned ugly between your two house teams because the snakes had cheated and the lions had hit back twice as hard. Not only on the field, but also in the hallways and between classes no one was spared by the Slytherin girl possy._

_“Doesn’t matter, Rita. Come on, lets go welcome them like the gracious hosts we are, and if they misbehave I’ll tell James and Sirius to kick them out. No one is ruining my party.”_

_Grumbling, the blonde went to fetch the welcome drinks, while Liu pulled you aside._

_“Penny-,”_

_“Leave it, Liu.” You insisted. “I’m fine.”_

_“No, you are very well not fine! Have you spoken to him since…” she trailed off._

_“Yes, we have. Want to know what he said?” Now the anger was starting to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “He said that I knew about his mother and the Malfoy legacy. That we aren’t even supposed to be friends, that Gryffindors and Slytherins don’t get along. And that…”_

_You trailed off, remembering his stormy grey eyes full of appall burned into your memory . “I could never like someone like you, someone that denies the-, the purity of magical blood.”_

_“Doesn’t matter, Liu. He made it very clear he could never like someone like me anyway.”_

_“Girl, what in Merlin’s name are you talking about! You’re smoking hot, that ass has no idea what he’s talking about!” Rita had returned, thrusting three sparkly drinks into your hands while pulling out her wand and twirling it twice. With a WHOOSH your hair suddenly fell in glossy curls around your shoulders, your skirt tucking up and your shirt down to reveal more of your skin, sun-kissed by the time spent bandaging the teams up on the Quidditch pitch._

_You gasped while your two friends took you by one arm each and marched you towards the entrance hole, giggling._

_“Go get them, Fisher! Oy, Snakes!”_

_“Rita!”, Liu hissed indignantly, while three heads simultaneously turned, all wearing the same, stuck up look of contempt that resembled the scrunched up face one would make while watering the Nastibora Pungentia in herbology class._

_Ignoring their obvious antimony, you each presented them with a glass of the horrendously expensive shining gold champagne Rita had bought off someone in Hogsmeade she wouldn’t reveal the name of._

_“Welcome to the Annual Gryffindor First Quarter Party, Bella, Narcissa, Lucius.”_

_Narcissa took her drink with a polite smile, while Bellatrix leered at you. “What, you expect me to drink that goblin’s piss?”_

_“Bella, behave!”, her cousin hissed at her._

_Ignoring her, you turned to a very silent Lucius, who stood stiffly next to the portrait hole, looking very out of place with his sleek black robes surrounded by a wild and jolly Gryffindor crowd._

_“Drink?” you offered quietly._

_“Yes, thank you, Penelope.” Avoiding your gaze, he picked up his own glass and took a tentative sip._

_Rita suddenly piped up._

_“SO nice of you to come, Les Stranges, Malfoy, now, party like the evil little snakes you are, but don’t steal anything or we shall tell Headless Nick to follow you around the rest of the evening.”_

_Leaving the three behind, you and your friends decided to hit the dance floor. The three of you sure struck quite an image amongst your classmates. Rita was slim and lanky with a crazy head of curls and long, polished fingernails. Liu was part Chinese, with beautiful black hair that reached down to her waist and had a real knack for figuring out just how to move to a beat. You yourself had decided to step it up a notch tonight, your lipstick perfectly matching the glint in your hair whenever the light caught it in the right moment._

_“-told you, Snake!”_

_“Despite whatever you might think, Potter-“_

_Your enjoyment of the moment disappeared immediately when you heard the angered voices cut through the music._

_“Lets take this outside.”_

_“Fine.”_

_Your two friends caught your gaze, your surprise reflected on both their faces. Looking around to find the source of the argument and only finding an all to smug Bellatrix regarding the closed portrait hole with a raised eyebrow, your worry turned into something colder in your stomach._  
_“Something isn’t right.”_

_“Yeah, no sh*t, Liu,” Rita responded. “Look at how self-satisfied El Strango is standing there! I bet she’s got something to do with it.”_

_“El Strango? Really, Rita?”_

_“What? Its not like-“_

_You cut them off._

_“Where are the boys? Where’s Lucius?”_

_You scanned the heads in the common room, hoping to find the familiar shock of blonde hair stand out amongst the crowd._

_“They’re gone!”_

_Rita cursed. “Well what are you waiting for, doc? Go after them! I’ll get Bella, you look for Narcissa, Liu!”_

_“Wait!” you tried to exclaim, but your friends had already headed to opposite ends of the common room._

_Deciding to hurry rather than argue, you whipped out your wand and headed out of the Gryffindor common room._

_Grabbing the first couple students to pass by, you asked whether they had seen a group of upperclassmen heading their way. They nodded affirmative, pointing you in the direction of the dungeons._

_With a hurried thanks, you continued on._

_And you ran._

_Yanking open one of the ancient oak doors which led down underneath the castle, you were somewhat relieved to hear the familiar, albeit heated voices of your friends up ahead._

_“What the heck is this, Malfoy? Are you mental?”_

_“Yeah, Malfoy, you’re sick!”_

_James, Sirius, confirmed._

_“Uh, fellows, we really shouldn’t be here, seeing as this is Professor Slughorn’s private specimen lab!”_

_“Y-yeah, we shouldn’t… w-what Remus said.”_

_Remus, Peter. Thank goodness. That only left…_

_“You are gravely mistaken in accusing me of such a ridiculous prank. If I wanted you any more intimidated than you already are by me, you would be just that.”_

_Lucius._

_Stepping over the threshold of the dungeon/classroom into the strictly off-limits specimen collection and preparation room of Professor Slughorn, the foul stench of the preparatory liquid hit you immediately._

_Struggling to draw a breath, you exclaimed, “Guys, come on, lets get out of here. We can settle this elsewhere!”_

_Sirius’ electric hazel eyes turned upon you._

_“Penny, we aren’t going anywhere! Look at what this freak did!”_

_Gesturing to the shelves stuffed to the brim with jars all containing the same, horrid, green-yellow liquid and in each swimming a specific body part, you finally saw what had the Marauders so upset._


	4. Traps, Injury, Friends from Unexpected Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still in the flashback, you run to aid your friends. But what happens when things turn ugly?

_As a sort of perverse joke, somebody had smeared the boys’ names onto the jars in a dark red substance. For instance, the jars containing a brain half, three human ears and a tail of some kind of reptile were labeled with Si-Ri-Us._

_Following your gaze, Lucius scoffed._

_“Half a brain? They should have put in no brain at all for a more fitting resemblance, Black.”_

_Sirius growled, balling his hands into fists._

_“I think I found Wormtail’s jar,” James suddenly exclaimed, half amused, half appalled._

_Peter shuffled, and all gazes fell upon a large jar on which the red substance was still dripping wetly off the capital “P”._

_Inside bobbed an entire head, shrunken by the liquid, wrinkled lips sewn together, eyes clenched tightly shut._   
_Lucius drew in a disgusted breath, Sirius let out a bark of shocked laughter and Remus averted his gaze._

_Poor Peter mumbled something about having to be sick, taking a slow step back. He miscalculated however, and knocked into the row of shelves behind him._

_You and the guys all jumped at the sound of the glass jars knocking against each other, the eerie tension in the dungeon drawing taught as a bowstring._

_And suddenly, the head snapped its eyes open, the milky orbs staring grotesquely at you._

_Peter let out a scream, and stumbled backwards, hitting the floor, unconscious._

_Your instinctive reaction was to draw your wand and check on him. You saw Lucius draw too and step in front of you and your friend protectively._

_“Oh my...,” Remus exclaimed._

_The jars now had all turned 180 degrees, collectively spelling out “YOU’RE NEXT”._

_James and Sirius stood at the ready, and James carefully prodded the glass with the head._

_There was a sudden pop, and a hiss, and the head shut its eyes again._

_Peter blinked groggily, and you stood to examine the spooky specimen as well, Lucius close behind you._

_You glanced at it, and whispered a revealing spell, to find out whether that was all the contraption did._

_You flinched as it popped again and suddenly heard a shout from Lucius._

_“DON’T-“_

_Without any other warning the jars exploded in a blast of glass, goo, and singing liquid._

_The boys cried out and covered their faces, ducking away from the mini-explosion and thumping to the stone floor to cover their heads as the crack of shattering glass rippled in sharp echoes off the dungeon walls._

_Lucius had been less fortunate. He had only had time to turn his back and take half a step toward you, placing himself fully between you and harms way, hissing in pain as glass, acidic liquid, and chilled air whooshed toward him to slam into his back, debris cutting through his cloak, shirt, and skin._

_The collision made him stumble forward, and he fell roughly to his knees into the glass shards that littered the floor as pain visibly seared through him._

_The head—or what was left of it—sizzled angrily in an acidic puddle._

_The others quickly started chanting cleansing charms to get rid of the remaining poisonous liquid. You immediately crouched to give aid to your friend, seeing the others were fine._

_Lucius groaned and reached up to touch the back of his neck. He had felt the skin being cut to pieces, and he was confirmed as his hand came away bloody. “By Medusa,” he hissed. At least he still had on his sturdy outdoor cloak. It had probably saved him from being seriously sliced up._

_The crunch of your feet on glass warned him that someone was approaching behind him, slowly and calmly through the chaos._

_“Dare and touch my back, and you shall get to sample the most gruesome curse I can think of at the moment,” Lucius growled. “And you can believe me when I say, I have a few dark ones in mind.” He could feel the glass moving with his cloak, some of it through the fabric and into him. Ouch. Ouch._

_“Don’t move,” you murmured near his ear, resting a gentle hand on the back of the blonde’s head._

_The scent of blood and the obvious pain in which Lucius was made you immediately switch into healer mode._

_Lucius hissed at even your light touch. His creamy, white skin was inlaid with glass fragments and started to well with crimson blood that trailed in rivulets down into his collar._

_“What on earth happened?” you asked as more footsteps around you scrambled on the stone floor. “Get someone from the hospital wing!” you instructed Peter, cowering in the corner. He scrambled to his feet, looking happy to escape the scene._

_“You-you came to close. Trap. Are you- are you hurt…?” Lucius tried to push off his hands to sit back on his heels, gritting his teeth after every labored puff of air._

_“I said, don’t you move,” you hissed indignantly as you held Lucius down and looked around. “I… Lucius, I’m fine. Thanks to you.”_

_Lucius quickly looked down, wincing as the rash movement caused more glass to slip down the back of his cloak._

_“Luck by instinct.”_

_Trying to stay in one spot, he set his hand back down on the floor littered with debris._

_“I… this was planned,” he said. “The others should have... I told her… never meant to hit...” He flinched as the blood ran from the back of his neck over and around to drip down the curve of his throat._

_You frowned as you listened, reaching down and absentmindedly plucking bits of glass out of the velvety cloak’s hood._

_“But how would whoever set it up know when we’d be here?” you answered, ceasing to pick bits of glass out of his cloak, realizing you looked a little like a hippogriff worrying over its mate._

_“Hey, doc? We need to move.”_

_You opened your mouth to protest, but were interrupted by a gentle hand on your shoulder._

_“James is right, Penny. That blast was quite loud.”_

_“But-“_

_“Don’t worry,” Remus insisted, “we more or less cleaned everything up in here.”_

_“What about Wormtail? I sent him to-“_

_James jumped in. “Sirius went after him. If they catch us in here, blowing up glasses and injuring members of the snake party, we’ll all be expelled!”_

_With a skeptic look at Lucius, he added, “Can you fix him up?”_

_Lucius winced as a particularly jagged chunk of glass dropped from his cloak. “She has to. We cannot risk going to the hospital wing for help. I trust you, Penelope.”_

_The mention of your name sent a jolt of heat through you, accompanied by the warm feeling of praise at his comment._

_“I promise to do my best,” you answered carefully. “Where else are you hurt? Anything internal?”_   
_“Where else? Haven’t you seen enough?” Lucius asked sharply. He visibly took a slow, deep breath despite the prickling pain._

_“My insides are fine. It’s my neck. It feels as if someone has hit me with a needle-prick curse on my back and down my legs, as well. I’m bleeding underneath the cloak.” He could feel the warm ooze spreading and wending down to his waistline._

_“May I?” you asked, lifting the silky black folds gently to peer under it. The fabric itself was ruined, largely due to the fluid, but it looked like a lot of the smaller glass shards had been caught in it. It was just the large, mean pieces that had made it into skin._

_Feeling James’ face close next to yours, observing the damage, you jumped._

_“He’ll live,” he declared in an exaggeratedly careless voice, after a second._

_Even in his situation, Lucius’ language never degenerated as he muttered to himself. “Take note, it appears more effort is required, shall you ever try to rid yourself of me, Potter.”_

_“Noted, Malfoy,” James shot back, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice as he bent to help you lift a surprised Lucius to his feet._

_You refrained from commenting, yet you bit your lip against a smile. It appeared that the animosity between the aloof 8th year student and the proud 7th year didn’t run as deep as everybody had thought._

_Lucius grimaced as his muscles flexed instinctively and pain shot through him. He hissed as Remus scooted past to hold open the door, accidentally jostling him and making him arch his back to keep his balance._

_“Apologies,” Remus murmured._

_“Alright, let’s hurry,” you muttered as you reached under Lucius arm to aid him._

_You had assured yourself that no arteries had been nicked and the acid burns hadn’t completely charred his skin, so now you wanted to get out of the spooky dungeon and lie Lucius down as quickly as possible._

_Lucius climbed awkwardly to his feet, trying not to shift too quickly._

_Once he stood, a good amount of the glass dropped to the floor, leaving only the pieces that were embedded too deeply to fall out. He kept his head bowed. Straightening his neck only pushed the tiny glass bits in deeper._

_“There,” you said with a reassuring smile as you plucked one last larger glass fragment out of the back of Lucius’ neck._   
_“Walk it off, man,” James suggested with a smirk as he began leading him by the elbow out of the dungeons and toward the hallway of the Gryffindor common room._

_“May the furies find you,” Lucius hissed. He admitted, silently, that this was practically nothing compared to the last time he’d been caught by an explosion, though last time he had been left to fend for himself after his father’s friends had made sure he had survived their little test of strength in a “perfectly fair” little duel. It was just the shock of it happening that had thrown him. And it hurt terribly this time._

_“You would most certainly say that if I had lost a leg.”_

_“Nah,” James scoffed as you climbed the last set of stairs into the hall. He looked left and right, then moved you, Lucius and Remus to the far wall, out the line of sight of the Great Hall. As you stepped behind the tall blonde, you ran your fingers gently through the back of his hair, removing more loose glass pieces._

_“He would probably tell you to hop it off,” Remus remarked drily._

_“Hey, that was my line!” James exclaimed with a barely restrained snicker._

_You grinned and even stoic Lucius let out a little amused huff, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt your fingers brush his scalp gently._

_“Surprisingly witty,” he admitted wryly, moving his arm and dripping blood onto the stone corridor._

_“Alright you three,” you chastised with another brush through Lucius’ blonde hair and another glass shard removed. “Remus, won’t you wipe up our trail? Now, I’d really like to take you to Madame Pomfrey, and I hope she’s fond enough of me and my help to not ask too many questions. Or, we go back to the dorm, I’ll grab my wand and healing salve so we can avoid the possibility of being instantly expelled?”_

_“I would heavily suggest the latter. If I may add a shower,” he sniffed indignantly before continuing. “I despise healing units. ‘Breathe evenly, Prefect Malfoy.’ ‘Don’t move, Prefect Malfoy.’”_

_“Don't worry, Prefect Malfoy, if we mess up your Daddy will sue to death so the entire clinic will be shut down,” James added. Before Lucius could respond in kind, James piped up again._

_“Shake a leg then, Prefect Malfoy, before anyone sees you covered in blood and goo.”_   
_Leading the way, you three followed the spiky haired boy, guiding Lucius by the elbow and beginning to head down the hallway toward the portrait hole. The sentiment apparently gave Lucius enough motivation to move, despite the painful burning and sharp jabs, as you made it over the moving staircases without any teacher, student or ghost making an appearance on the scene._

_As the last stairway slid into place, Lucius set his hand to the wall to lean against it and hissed instead, jerking back his hand to pick at a piece of twisted glass embedded in his palm._

_The other two boys merely watched silently as you assisted in extracting the shard, though you saw them wincing in sympathy._

_“Good you had your back to it,” you offered finally, suddenly feeling guilty._

_“Reflex,” Lucius answered lightly. “I originally had my side to it.” He lifted his hand to his mouth as a trickle of blood seeped from the abused skin just under the curve of his chin._

_“Worried, pretty face?” James muttered to Remus, shaking his head._   
_Lucius good hand flashed up, waving a finger at the tapestry above James’ head sharply._

_With a creak, the heavy fabric loosened itself from the wall, slapping him smartly on the head._

_“Ow! What on earth?” James cried as he rubbed his head and huffed. “Spellcasting without a wand? No fair, we haven’t even learned that yet!”_

_“The luck is on your side, Potter. As I am not fully concentrated,” Lucius muttered. “That was supposed to have knocked you out for a little while.”_

_He sniffed and pried at a piece of glass in the heel of his hand. “My lucky streak is about played out. You have headed into the wrong direction. The common room lies the other way.”_

_“Correct, the Slytherin common room does indeed lie down a few floors. But it appears we are heading toward our common room.” Remus commented._

_“It appears so…,” Lucius replied tightly. The pain was worse moving, and he was not looking forward to clambering through the narrow portrait hole. “I would prefer my own house’s common room, to tell the truth. I feel somewhat like Professor Trelawney’s pincushion.”_

_“Look like one, too,” James observed dryly as the tapestry swayed dangerously above his head, aiming at another slap._

_“I have my first aid kit in my dorm, and my room mates won’t ask too many questions,” you explained hastily. “Besides, if… anything happens, you’re safer here, with us.”_

_Lucius looked about to protest, however, he swallowed and merely asked, “Shall I reside in a girl’s dormitory then?”_

_There was momentary silence, in which everybody looked at each other._

_“We hadn’t considered that…” James admitted, although Remus interrupted almost immediately._

_“You’ll take our dorm then,” he stated, matter-of-factly._

_James looked at Remus sideways, but after a second, he nodded in agreement._

_“Alright. I’m not telling Sirius he’s sleeping on the couch though.”_

_Remus groaned._


	5. Healing and Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally back in the common room, you take it upon yourself to stitch Lucius up as best you can...

_Approaching the Fat Lady, you tentatively cleared your throat, trying to wake the dame as gently as possible._

_After a few tries, she raised her head, completely disorientated._

_“Passport?”_

_“Uh… Frilly Shambles,” you tried hesitantly, as Remus elbowed James in the side, who had let out a loud snort._

_“Bloody well is, middle of the night…,” the Fat Lady muttered, adjusting her sleeping hat, turning onto her side, clearly dismissive._

_As you clambered through the portrait hole, Lucius arched a bloodied brow._

_“That is your dorm security?”_

_“Hey,” James exclaimed defensively, “you can’t expect her to stay up all night, waiting for the enemy to be taken inside the ranks!”_

_Lucius jerked his head placatingly._

_“Don’t bleed on the seats,” James added with a huff as he and Remus went to fetch the other two boys._   
_Lucius muttered something under his breath and sank into the nearest armchair by the fire. Closing his eyes as he sat carefully, he felt glass chunks dig into the backs of his thighs and his face went very still as he gritted his teeth. “I hope you are able to do something about this situation,” he said as he gripped the edge of the fire place to keep himself from leaning back._

_“I will try my best,” you offered, crouching next to the armchair, placing your hand lightly on top of his._

_“I… I owe you an apology,” Lucius confessed after a calm silence._

_“I know you didn’t do it, Lucius,” you reassured him immediately. He might have been able to prevent the entire affair altogether, but he hadn’t been the one to set the horrible trap._

_Malfoy winced._

_“No. Not- not about that. Well, certainly about that too, in a way.” He held up his good hand shakily to shush you._

_He continued with difficulty._

_“About what I said, a few weeks ago. About you, about me. That you- you didn’t care about my blood, or your blood, and that what I felt was so important, you thought was simply foolish. I laughed at you, and even insulted you and your friends. But Penelope… I-“_

_He swallowed, lowering his head in order to seemingly gaze into the fire._

_“Your friends and you have been very kind. I would have never thought…”_

_Seeing him struggle pulled at your heart, and you told him he didn’t have to continue._

_He shook his head, immediately regretting the movement as the resulting pain must have jabbed so sharply, his eyes shone wet in the firelight. When he had regained some of his composure, he continued._

_“I shall thank you all, properly, when the time comes. Penny, I wish I could take back everything I said.”_

_The last part he said with such sincerity, you had a hard time not embracing him. Instead, you squeezed his hand reassuringly, looking deep into those icy gray eyes._

_“I shall forget it for now, Lucius.”_

_A moment of understanding passed between you, sparking something deep within the both of you._

_The moment was gone as soon as it had come though, as Sirius’ voice cut through the air._

_“Why do you have that totally atypical ‘We’re up to something ever-so-wrong’ sound in your voice, Remus?”_

_With the ghost of his smile embedded into your memory, you finally broke eye contact._

_Despite the countless stairs up the dormitory and an indignant “We don’t get to go up to the girl’s dormitory, but they can stroll in whenever they want to???” from James, you quickly ascended in one piece without leaving carnage behind, so Lucius didn’t utter a single word. By the time you got upstairs, he seriously wanted several stiff drinks though. Or a bottle._

_“Alright, lets get you out of your clothes,” you ordered as soon as the door was closed and James and Remus had headed to the bathrooms._   
_“Face down on the bed,” you added as you took off your own cloak, tossing it onto the back of a chair, then began rolling up your sleeves, taking out your wand._

_“Please,” you added hastily, as Lucius was looking at you with a surprised expression, not having had experience with your healer’s tone yet._

_Lucius carefully shrugged out of the shredded cloak, seeing glass chunks scatter on the carpet as he dropped it._

_Not willing to pull it over his head, he pulled out his sleek, onyx wand and with one clean wave used it to handily slice open his dress shirt from collar to waist. The back of the shirt was matted with blood, and he let it drop, too, hissing as the fabric pulled debris fragments loose as he peeled it off his skin._

_With a split glance at you hovering by the bed, he unfastened his trousers and shoved them over his hips with another hiss, leaving his legs mostly free of glass._

_He toed out of his shoes and socks, leaving them under the jeans, and stepped free to the foot of the four-poster bed._

_Clearing his throat, he gestured to his long blonde hair, tips matted with scarlet._

_“Would you help me with my hair?”_

_Startled into action, you paced over to where he stood, and he bowed down slightly to adjust to your height._

_Pulling a soft hair tie from your wrist, you gently brushed through his silky hair with your fingers once, before bunching the platinum strands together into a relaxed bun._

_Swallowing as you fussed over a few stray hairs, you took perhaps a little longer than necessary to finish the casual up-do, not willing to let go of the beautiful hair just yet._

_When you stepped back, he crawled onto the mattress in nothing but his boxer briefs and settled on his stomach with several winces._

_You watched him with a furrowed brow, your face unreadable as your eyes followed the bits of bloody clothing on the floor._

_You brandished your wand gingerly, with a distinctive whoosh as you stepped closer to the bed._

_Pressing his lips together hard, Lucius closed his eyes. The small, ugly yet unrelenting voice in his head suddenly asked him if he just might need to be worried, but he made himself dismiss the thought. He was mostly sure he trusted you, despite having someone so close at his naked back, brandishing their wand. Besides, you had already had your chances._

_You knelt on the bed beside him, gently as you tried not to jostle Lucius too much, and you leaned to your side, putting your head beside his ear to get a better look at the glass fragments._

_“I might have to dig a little,” you told Lucius in the same clinical tone of voice you had used before, yet Lucius was certain he had heard true concern mixed into it._

_“Go ahead,” he murmured tightly, not moving._

_It would hurt horrendously, but it all had to come out. At least the damage wouldn’t require an extensive trip to Saint Mungo’s this time. He might have even sighed at your clinical directness, but it would have required him to move._

_You didn’t touch him for several moments, just hovering next to him on the bed inspecting the wounds quietly._

_Finally, you moved, the rustle of your clothing and the slight dip in the bed the only indication that you were even still there._

_A moment later, soft wood touched the skin of Lucius’ nape._

_Once, twice, three times in rapid succession, you merely brushed over the skin as if you were touching the tip of the wand to his skin experimentally and then raising it again._

_The movement was repeated several more times, the only sound a swish of fabric drenched in antiseptic potion and the tinkle of glass shards being deposited into your hand after every three or four flicks of the wand. And of course, the almost reverent chant of your voice, repeating over and over the same words, extracting, healing, extracting, healing,…_

_Lucius’ eyes squeezed shut and his fingers curled in the bedspread, but otherwise he didn’t move or make a sound._

_He was breathing very shallowly to keep his back still._

_Some of the glass felt like pins being removed as you scraped, just little pricks._   
_Other times he felt like a claw was cutting into his skin, and his breathing stilled as he felt the glass pry loose, leaving a tiny gouge behind._

_“First experience I had with the extraction charm was when I was five years old and Granny had sent me to pick a few porcupine quills off the ones in the background,” you told him in a conversational manner as you saw the muscles in Lucius’ back bunch with tension. “Of course, I had no idea how to properly take them off the animal’s back. Grandma was always a more ‘learning by doing’ kind of person. Make your own experiences and all that. And since I always did what I thought was right regardless of what I was told, she figured I’d get to experience another important life lesson. Well, I went out, and tried to pluck those quills right off poor Guillermo’s back, Grandma’s Spanish porcupine. Ended up with half its quills sticking out of my face. Thank goodness he had missed the eyes. Grandma obviously had observed with her usual coolness. When I came back crying, she asked whether I had learned my lesson and wanted to take her advice next time. Since then, I’ve always kept more of an open ear to what people tell me,” you mused with fondness._

_“Only I had to go back and get those quills the proper way,” you told Lucius in a respectable tone. “’Those quills aren’t going to float into your potion themselves!’ Now you tell me why she sent me back!”_

_“Because she wanted to teach you another so-called life lesson?”_

_“Hah, the principles of natural selection, maybe,” you responded with a snicker. “Poor Guillermo would have prevailed, and I would have been doomed.”_

_Lucius hummed amusedly, and winced. “Merlin’s beard, I shouldn’t be laughing,” he almost begged._

_“Hold still,” you warned with a hand pressed to the back of his head. He chuckled, suddenly, quietly as he said, “I have had the pleasure of enjoying play-dates like this.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Yes. When I was small, my father used to invite the sons of his work partners over. Spoiled rotten and sadistic little tykes they were. I too, am all too familiar with the extraction chant. Speaking of, may I ask of you to please leave at least some healthy skin intact?”_

_You responded with a brush of your finger over the strips of thin white scars covered with blood. You didn’t ask what had happened. Someone who came from a very authoritative family would certainly not enjoy mentally reliving such pain from the past. What you did want to ask was how Lucius would come by such mementos. You refrained, though. Mainly because you didn’t want to assume any very hurtful parental involvement._

_“I will look like a chessboard, in the end,” Lucius said, muscles shifting under your fingertips._

_“At least we won’t need one to play on then,” you offered with a wink. “I don’t know enough about the game to make jokes though,” you added with sincere disappointment._

_Lucius coughed again, amused._

_“Chess is a sport, to be precise,” he corrected quietly, and the muscles in his back involuntarily clenched and shifted. The sight of his alabaster skin move made you lose focus for a split second and stumble over your chant._

_You immediately drew your wand back and apologized, wiping a hand over your forehead._

_You exhaled sharply, as blood welled where your words had caused a cut in Lucius’ skin. Trembling, you dabbed lightly at the wound._

_“Don’t lose focus, healer,” Lucius ordered curtly. “You’re the only one who can do this,” he added, more softly._

_His tone snapped you back into focus. “Wouldn’t want you bleeding to death now,” you exclaimed with a thankful smile._

_“Would you not?” Lucius said with obvious snark in his voice. However, the phrase struck a chord within you._

_“No,” you answered quietly. “No, I would not.”_

_“I find myself in the right hands then,” Lucius muttered gently, setting his chin back on his crossed hands._

_Then he shifted uncomfortably. “There seems to be a larger piece below my left shoulder blade.”_

_“…I know,” you responded carefully._

_“Stay still now,” you cautioned again as you pressed your hand down on the back of Lucius’ head. Lucius stilled, but a tiny smile still pulled at the corners of his mouth between grimaces._

_You had to lean closer, bracing your free hand on Lucius’ other side as you peered across the snowy white plane of Lucius’ back. “That might be metal, from the lid” you observed in an intentionally detached sort of manner. “That will most likely be very painful.”_

_“Wonderful,” Lucius said sourly, curling his fingers into the bedspread and laying his forehead against his wrists. “The non-infectious type, I should hope.”_

_“I don’t have anything strong to drink here, but what about a charm?” you offered._   
_Lucius pressed his lips together. “We do not allow those, in my family,” he said quietly._

_“Okay,” you said with a nod. Pain-relieving magic was amongst the trickiest healing magic that existed. It had to do with taking one’s own health and wellbeing, and sharing it alongside the pain of the wounded. Furthermore, it could only be done if both parties agreed beforehand. Since it was ancient magic as well, it only worked if somewhat equal emotional attachment existed, since an unbalance could lead to the complete depletion of the healer’s health by a selfish patient._

_“Can I offer you a jaw-gluing toffee?” you asked._

_“Will it be that bad?”_

_“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. You shook your head and finally just decided to grip the piece of jagged metal with your hands and yank it._

_The pain must have been so sudden and sharp that Lucius didn’t even get to inhale before it streaked through him. His neck and back went rigid and his face went a ghostly shade of white, and by the time he gasped a breath in he was unable to do anything but just lie there, trembling. After several heartbeats he spoke, voice low, clipped and heartfelt. “P-please, desist.”_

_“Yeah, it was going to hurt,” you murmured in retrospect, as you put your hand on the back of Lucius’ head again and rested it there. “That’s all,” you said with a little pat of your hand._

_Knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it, yet not wanting his pain to overwhelm him, you briefly closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, turning your hand over, so that your wand lay flat like a compass needle in your palm._

_There, you felt it, the hot, burning flame of pain that burned, close. Realizing he had to be in more anguish than he let on, you steeled yourself, and beckoned the fire closer._

_It obeyed, glowing hot, seemingly scorching your back. Just before it came too close, you spun your wand around, and the fire disappeared. Feeling a lot wearier than before, you sat down on the bed’s edge, placing your wand on the bedside table._

_The muscles in Lucius’ back slowly started to flex as he cautiously moved to check for what he could feel._

_“Thank you,” he said quietly, as he started to push himself up._

_“Why don’t you just stay down?” you suggested tiredly._

_Lucius turned his chin sharply to look at you, studying your face for any sign of teasing or disgust. Not finding anything but gentle tiredness, he sighed, letting his shoulders slump and his mask crack._

_The pain and exhaustion showed more fully upon his face as he lowered himself back down onto the bed, still moving very cautiously and stiffly._

_He shifted his eyes to you, but he didn’t find anything to say. He didn’t want to insult or tease at the moment, and if he had opened his mouth, he feared something far too tender, far too personal would have spilled out._

_You nodded in satisfaction and hefted yourself up from the bed. “I’m going to clean off, okay? Going to fetch some things from my dorm and get ready for bed; I’ll be right back.”_

_“I’ll be here,” Lucius murmured, half delirious. His patience, his energy, and his pain threshold were all tapped. If he’d let himself fall asleep now, it might help, but he refused to let go of little reserve of dignity he had left._

_“Don’t move,” you ordered yet again as you headed for the door._

_Back in your room you moved as quickly as you could to gather your medical kit, not even bothering with the lights. After a brief glance around the dark room you realized that your two dorm mates hat sat up, drowsy with sleep, and were now looking at you._

_“Girl, where’ve you been?” Rita asked with a yawn. The curtains were drawn and there was barely any light for you to see._

_The smell of Lucius’ blood on your hands and your robes suddenly hit you, and you were glad for the darkness of the room._

_“Found the others,” you replied, picking up your blanket. “Sticky situation, I’ll explain tomorrow. Need to do a little fixing up tonight.”_

_“Narcissa was gone, by the way,” Liu commented._

_“Oh yeah, and all I got out of psycho Bella was that ‘We all will get what we deserve’. Crazy witch.”_

_The hair on the back of your neck began to rise._

_“Well thanks anyway, Rita, Liu. See you two tomorrow, yeah?”_

_“Bye bye, P. Don’t get lost on your way into some boy’s bed!” Rita called after you._

_If only she knew…_


	6. More Revelations?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius reveals part of his childhood...

A whistle sounded.

The train began to move. Your eyes traced over the crowd, waving, some laughing, some crying, children too young to board the train running to keep up until it gathered too much speed.

You watched the station platform until it disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. You remembered what you had left behind when you had boarded the train the final time after your seventh year, a full-grown wizard.

Oh and the scene with Lucius?

 

_When you returned to the dorm, Lucius’ pulse was a little higher than you would have liked. He hadn’t moved. He still sprawled on the bed on his belly, cheek pillowed on one hand, the other curled in the bedspread as he breathed carefully. His eyes opened and looked right at the door when you entered, and then he relaxed again._

_“I’m back,” you said softly over your shoulder as you headed into the room to spread out the contents of your healer’s kit._

_In it, amongst all the bottles and instruments, you pulled out disinfectant and self-wrapping gauze, a tin of salve made from white willow bark, against the inflammation. You swirled your wand over the bucket of water once, until the sloshing surface crackled with ice. Grabbing a stack of towels, you headed back out into the outer room. Lucius was draped over the pillow, long, bare legs extended out over the bed._

_You felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you took a silent moment to look at your... friend. It was usually hidden under his billowing cloak, but there was no denying that he was certainly muscular. In a kind of hot, expensive robes, aristocratic-nose-in-the-air sort of way. When his white skin wasn’t mottled in crimson blood._

_Shrugging your thoughts off forcefully, you moved closer, kneeling beside the bed and setting the water down next to him._

_“I have got to disinfect them with Clipper’s Cleanup Solution,” you told him as he looked up and examined his wounds. “It will probably burn.”_

_Lucius bit off a moan tightly, squeezing the pillow harder._

_You silently wedged several towels under Lucius’ body to catch the mess the water was going to make. “ It takes a lot of strength to say no to pain relief, when you don’t have to,” you finally murmured as you began cleaning the blood with a moistened cloth. “I respect that, if that matters to you.”_

_Lucius was silent for a long minute as the cool rag wiped carefully over his back._

_“Thank you,” he finally said quietly. Wouldn’t a healing spell feel like heaven right now? Merlin, even a little relief would be appreciated. It defeated the point of him throwing himself haphazardly in front of danger to protect her though._

_He still was not entirely sure why he had done it. It had all happened so fast, and his instinct had kicked in when he had remembered the wicked grin his sadistic cousin had worn earlier when she had mentioned the little “trick” she had set up. He was going to have a talk with her later._

_Still, there were other things he said no to, as well ... most of the time. Things he would do better not to think about at all._

_Like the girl behind him._

_Lucius could feel the heat coming off her. He fell silent for a while before speaking again. His voice wasn’t self-deprecating; if anything it was intentionally cold and clinical._

_“I say no to quite a few things,” Lucius murmured without thinking how you would react. “But there certainly is no one to care.” The last words he said so quietly, you wondered whether you had imagined them._

_“Do you care?” you asked carefully._

_Sighing, Lucius pressed his cheek to the pillow. “I suppose I do. The bare minimum one should, however. I would not go so far as to get involved in my parents’ business because I want to stay and finish, here. That does not however translate to caring how I finish.”_

_“This might sound cheesy,” you warned as you wiped one last time over Malfoy’s back, then set the cloth aside and reached for the solution, “but you need to do what is right for you, because only you know what exactly that is.”_

_“I could just apply the salve,” you offered as a second thought, looking down at Mr. Clipper’s Cleanup doubtfully._

_“Compromise,” Lucius said. “Disinfect the worst ones. I would prefer to avoid an infection.”_

_You nodded silently, then quickly spread iodine onto the deeper gashes._

_“What exactly do your parents do?” you asked suddenly._

_Lucius’ shoulders tightened in response, from the sting of the solution or because of the question, you didn’t know._

_“I don’t mean to pry,” you quickly added on. “I was just wondering, as I have known you for so long.”_

_Lucius pressed his lips together tightly. “My father… He is a merchant. He buys and sells furniture and artifacts- of a certain kind.” he said tonelessly. “Most of the items are… cursed, or haunted. For example, there is an old mirror beneath Malfoy Manor one of my ancestors attained, hundreds of years ago. It gives… certain suggestive powers to whoever decides to strike a bargain with the keeper of the mirror. I personally think it must be a genie of some kind, trapped forever in the silvery depths.”_

_“Anyway,” he continued shakily, “the power of suggestive magic comes with a price. The concept of how we believe magic courses through a magician’s blood is very complicated to explain. We think that some blood is of a purer quality than others’. Because the Malfoys have a clean bloodline, we can afford to…feed part of our magic into the mirror. Haven’t you ever wondered where the white hair comes from?”_

_You pursed your lips and continued with the solution, your eyes drifting to the silvery white strands of his hair. “You would actually intentionally... give part of your magic to a cursed mirror?”_

_Lucius let out a pent-up breath. “Not exactly. When I was a child, I discovered the mirror by myself. It called to me. Had my nanny not heard my cries of anguish, the genie would have…extinguished not only my magic, but my life force entirely.”_

_You held your breath, astounded by the revelation of his childhood._

_“That is also the reason why many have a hard time going against my wishes, if I ask something of them directly,” he muttered. “I suppose if I ever had a child, the genies ‘gift’ would be passed directly on to them.”_

_“Have you ever thought of destroying it?” you asked, frankly a little disturbed by the existence of such an object._

_“Many times,” Lucius admitted, quietly. “However, my father protects it reverently. Merlin knows why.”_

_You shook your head, angrily. What kind of man kept something that had nearly killed his only child?_

_“Well, shall I ever come across it, I shall smash the mirror into a million pieces,” you exclaimed, steadfastly._

_You jumped as Lucius laughed softly in response._

_“Indeed, you would,” he said, in a vaguely fond fashion, before laying his head back down._

_“I would thank you for it,” he murmured after a short pause._

_“Yeah?” you asked in slight surprise._

_“Most certainly,” he said simply as he lay still under your hand, which was spreading some sort of awful-smelling salve over the myriad of nicks and cuts. Lucius’ expression was torn between a slight frown and a tiny smile, and something glittered in his grey eyes for a change._

_“There,” you huffed finally. “Don’t roll over; you’ll never stop,” you warned._

_“Would you pass me my wand?” Lucius asked as he shifted, only to wince as the skin pulled._

_Remembering his words from before, you suddenly became aware of how your hand had automatically reached toward his wand lying on top of his ruined cloak. You shook your head to clear it from the suggestion, and placed the wand in Lucius’ hand. His palm covered the wand, and his fingers curled firmly around your hand. His eyes had gone serious when he looked up at you._

_“Why did you help me?”_

_You looked down at your hands and then up at Lucius with open confusion._

_“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked._

_That certainly wasn’t the answer Lucius had been expecting. He figured he would receive a standard ‘when someone is hurt, they have to be helped’ remark. His face softened slightly, and he nodded slowly, letting go of your hand._

_“I- Thank you, Penny.”_

_“Anytime, Lucius,” you responded softly. “Thank you, too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapters will be more about your return to Hogwarts! Done with the flashback for now, I just lost myself a little in Lucius' brooding, serious attitude! Hope you are enjoying it so far :)


	7. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at Hogwarts Platform, the journey up to the castle, and meeting an old Professor of yours...

While you had been reminiscing, the train had carried you out of London. Now it was speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. You sat in silence, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, old woman slid back the door and said, “Anything off the trolley my dear?”

Grinning, you ordered a Pumpkin Pasty.

“How’s the shop in Hogsmeade doing?” you enquired as you handed her two silver Sickles. “Keep the change.”

She smiled, and responded, “Just splendidly, love, now that the students are back we ought to jump right into business again! After all, I hear Honeydukes is one of the young’uns favorites.”

You laughed.

“Not only theirs!”

 

 

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

As you were finishing your treat, there was a knock on the door of your compartment and a round-faced boy slid the door back. He stood in the doorway, teary-eyed.

"Pardon," he said, "but have you seen a toad here somewhere?"

“A toad?”

“Yes, you see, Trevor keeps getting away from me!”

As you were about to reply, a girl with a bushy head of hair brushed past the boy.

“Excuse me, Professor,” she started in a bossy voice, “do you happen to know when we will arrive at Hogwarts?”

Surprised at her knowledge of your new occupation, you admitted that you did not.

“However, Miss…”

“Granger. Hermione Granger.”

“Miss Granger, would you mind assisting us in the search for Trevor the escaped Toad? You seem to have a very keen eye.”

The boy looked rather unsure of wanting the girl’s help, but muttered a shy thank you when she agreed to look out for one on her way to the conductor. Just as the boy made to leave, you held him back.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name, Mr.?”

“L-Longbottom. Neville Longbottom.”

Now that name rang a bell. A bell which tolled darkly, the sound tinged with sadness.

“I see. Good to meet you, Mister Longbottom,” you responded, quietly.

“Y-you too, Professor.”

He glanced at you carefully one final time before sliding the compartment door shut. Abraxas, your Raven cawed softly from his perch into the thoughtful silence.

“Neville Longbottom…,” you muttered, repeating the name aloud.

_“…Lestrange, convicted of the torture ... permanent incapacitation … stands accused of capturing an Auror — Frank Longbottom — ... Cruciatus Curse, knowledge of He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named —”_

_“… further accused, brutal torture … Frank Longbottom’s wife, when he would not give information. The jury was asked —”_

You shook your head to rid it of the memory passed, leaning against the glass window heavily.

 

 

A little while later, your head shot up groggily as the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station. People started pushing their way toward the doors and out on to the tiny, dark platform. You clasped your cloak and pulled it fast around your shoulders. As you stepped down off the train, there was a rumble of thunder overhead, disturbing the cold night air.

You faintly saw a lamp bobbing over the heads of the students, and suddenly an all too familiar voice rang out through the dark, calling to all first years.

As you had only been able to take leave off Saint Mungo’s quite late, you hadn’t arrived a week early along with all the other teachers. However, you didn’t mind, enjoying the nervous rumble of all the new students, and the excitement on the faces of the students returning.

You inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd, Abraxas perched on your shoulder. Outside the station stood a hundred carriages, waiting. The leathery animals pulling them didn’t seem to mind the cold, as their large, pupil-less eyes shone in the milky moonlight.

In your opinion, the gentle creatures seemed to carry an aura of calm around them, regardless of their reputation. Of course, working in the emergency ward had made you witness a few casualties, enabling you to now see the Thestrals. Back in your own Hogwarts days you had always wondered what they looked like, when you had learned that the horse-less carriages were indeed, not horse-less at all.

You gratefully clambered into the first one, and the door shut with a snap. Abraxas had settled atop the carriage, and let out a loud caw. A second later, the long procession of carriages started moving with a great lurch, rumbling and splashing their way up the track towards the grand Hogwarts Castle.

The ride was short, and soon you were driving through the grand entrance, tall pillars on either side of the gates, each topped with a winged boar your pet observed keenly.

 

Seeing as you were the first to arrive, you pulled out the letter you had received from Dumbledore to go over the information one more time. You were to join the teachers at the head table, your trunks would be sent straight to your quarters, and a member of staff would accompany you to your classroom after the feast.

You whistled for Abraxas and approached the doors. You pulled them open wide.

The entrance hall was as big as you remembered it. The stone walls were still lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was still too high to make out, and the magnificent marble staircase lead to the upper floors was still standing, albeit looking a little more worn.

Your shoes clacked as you paced across the flagged stone floor, long cloak whispering behind you. You could hear the drone of hundreds of voices to the right, the voices of all the students waiting for the newcomers.

“Miss Fisher?” a stern voice said behind you suddenly. You turned to see a rather severe-looking woman wearing square glasses approach. She, in contrast to your scarlet, was wearing an emerald cloak. Her hair was drawn into a tight bun, and you could see the first streaks of gray amidst the black strands. Realization hit you.

“P-professor McGonagall?”

The hint of a smile tugged at the witch’s thin lips, usually set in a stern line.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts, Miss Fisher,” she said, clasping your hand in a sharp, yet welcoming handshake. “Professor Dumbledore has asked me to act as your-in his words- “warm welcoming committee”, and escort you to your seat. I suspect you remember your ways about the castle?”

It took you a second to reply, not having expected one of your former teachers to treat you like a colleague, not a student.

“Y-yes, professor,” you replied, as she raised an eyebrow at your pause, suddenly acknowledging your pet atop your shoulder with a sharp eye.

“Minerva will do, Miss Fisher,” she answered after a moment of silent deliberation.

You must have looked visibly startled, as you saw something in McGonagall’s eyes soften in rare amusement.

“Then Penelope is alright with me.”

A moment of silence passed, as you voiced the foreign, yet familiar name in your head, only to cringe internally at the way it sounded. It had been “Professor McGonagall” all your life, first name-basis felt oddly disrespectful. You guessed your colleague apparently felt in a similar fashion, as a somewhat tense silence fell between you at the foreign situation.

“With all due respect, Professor, my high regard for you has not changed over the years, and as I will always be willing to learn, I would not be averse to the old Miss Fisher/Professor McGonagall routine, if that is alright with you. At least for the time being,” you added hastily.

You hoped you didn’t sound insulting.

Professor McGonagall bowed her emerald-hat tipped head slightly in agreement.

“Then for the time being, so be it. Follow me, now, Miss Fisher.”

Abraxas clicked mockingly into your ear at your silent sigh of relief, taking off from your shoulder and landing on the outstretched arm of the Professor already striding ahead down the corridor.

Panting slightly as you caught up with her, you nearly collided with the professor as she briskly turned to face you, her hand placed on the handle of a door you suspected lead straight to the teachers’ table.

“I shall take my short leave of you now. I trust I will see you at the banquet after I have instructed the first-years,” she said briskly, already turning to head back down the direction you had just come from.

Adjusting your cloak in a nervous gesture, you made to head through the door.

“Oh and, Miss Fisher?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Hogwarts is glad to have you back.”


End file.
